


Ohana

by quillquiver



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Disney, First Kiss, Fluff, Lilo & Stitch - Freeform, M/M, Romance, crack!fic (kind of), protective!Dean, sick!Cas, sick!fic, tangled
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 02:17:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,737
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1039137
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quillquiver/pseuds/quillquiver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean Winchester learns the importance of Disney movies, Castiel is the prettiest princess, and it’s all Sam’s fault.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ohana

**Author's Note:**

> This might end up being a two-shot, depending on my inspiration and how people receive this fic... And, of course, I don't own Supernatural.

 

“ _Ohana means family, family means nobody gets left behind. Or forgotten.”_

\--Lilo & Stitch

 

It was Sam's fault. The only reason Dean could not fucking think right now was because the TV in Sam's room was currently on full blast, and Castiel was watching Tangled. 

_Tangled._

And it was _all Sam’s fault._

Cas had only been living in the Batcave with them for about three weeks, but four days ago, the angel had started feeling sick. Sam, being the stand up guy that he is, went to go get cough drops and tissues while Dean set the dark-haired man up in the only room with a TV; his little brother's... And when the giant of a Winchester had pranced back with everything Cas needed to recover, he’d also carried an arsenal of animated movies. Sam had presented them to the ex-angel with that stupid 'let me help you' look, and Cas had been powerless to refuse.

Castiel had been glued to the TV screen for four days.

After the second day of non-stop Disney watching (because, really, basically everything is Disney now. Even Star Wars, and Dean doesn't want to think about that), Dean had had enough. It was one thing to watch movies in your room quietly with the door closed... It was another to blast it and leave the door wide open when it _wasn’t even your room_. 

And despite the fact that they had talked about volume half a dozen times already, Cas turned the volume up whenever Sam and Dean went out, which was often... But they never had the heart to ask him to lower it after. As a result, _Cas didn’t learn_.

The eldest Winchester was slowly losing his patience. 

Dean had tried to break the weird obsession. After that first day, he had tried so hard. They had done The Godfather, Pulp Fiction, Inception, The A Team, Star Wars, the new Star Trek, the first Harry Potter, Forrest Gump, even, God help him, The Titanic. Cas had liked them all, and Dean had been relieved, thinking that the next morning, he’d be met with the soothing sounds of car chases and explosions… But no dice.

Apparently, Castiel _loved_ animated flicks. 

Over the three day marathon, the ex-angel had watched Mulan, Cinderella, Snow White, The Little Mermaid, Brave, Sleeping Beauty, Tarzan, Beauty & the Beast, The Sword in the Stone, Bambi (which had been a disaster and a half: _'but how could they just let her_ die _, Dean?! This film is for children!'_ ), The Frog Princess ( _'Have you ever seen this one, Sam? The music is phenomenal!_ '), Aladdin, the Aristocats... He had particularly enjoyed The Hunchback of Notre Dame. And this was not counting the movies Cas had watched when Sam and Dean were out. 

Personally, Dean had had enough. Forget the fact that the hunter had been limiting his contact with the ex-angel for the sake of his own health, Dean was starting to dream in Disney songs. And that was the last straw.

"Cas, turn it down!" He was in Sam's doorway, looking at the sick man expectantly as Cas stared back. He was pale and the skin under his eyes was slightly puffy and red from rubbing, making his iris' more blue than ever. And that was really the only part of Cas Dean could see. He was swaddled in so many blankets he looked like the fattest Russian nesting doll, and the bed was littered with soiled tissues.

Dean was going to burn Sam's sheets when this was all said and done.

"Dean?"

Except it didn't sound like _Dean_ , it sounded like a mix between ‘Dean’ and ‘Bean’... And as a result, was kind of incredibly adorable. 

Which, as much as Dean wanted it to piss him off, only made him feel sorry for the guy.

"Cas, man, turn it down." 

Somehow, Cas' hand emerged from the mass of blankets and reached for the remote control, pressing the pause button as the dark-haired man nodded, sneezing in a manner that was altogether too cute for his own good. Briefly, Dean reminded himself to go hit the gym or kill something to make him feel more manly, but was distracted by Castiel's phlegm-ridden cough. Reaching for the box of tissues, the ex-angel looked heart-broken when he found it empty. 

Dean made a beeline for the bedside table, mothering instincts kicking in as he handed a full box to the pile of blankets. Cas accepted them greatly. “Bdank you.”

With one hand blowing his nose, the ex-angel used the other to start the film again, turning down the volume ever so slightly.

“ _Okay, okay, okay, I’ve got a person in my closet. I’ve got a person in my closet. I'VE GOT A PERSON IN MY CLOSET!_ ”

Dean frowned. Since when were manic, crazy women who locked people in closets part of Disney flicks? “Uh, Cas… you sure this is the right movie?”

“It differs from the original fairytale,” the ex-angel mumbled off-handedly, “I doubt Flynn Rider impregnates this Rapunzel and gets tricked into the tower to be blinded by Mother Gothel-”

“Holy _crap_ that is one ugly lady.”

“Mother Gothel,” Castiel supplied helpfully before quietly shushing the hunter. Dean looked at his friend in slight disbelief, eyes looking back at the screen. Rapunzel was questioning Flynn Rider. He was tied to the chair with her hair.

…And now she hit him with a frying pan.

As somebody with personal experience regarding being hit with that particular piece of cookware, Dean cringed appropriately.

“ _You broke my smoulder_.”

Cas chuckled, giving Dean a sideways glance from under his blankets as the hunter caught his eye, confused.

"What?" 

Cas merely smiled, shrugging as he turned his attention back to the screen. Dean frowned, looking at the other man suspiciously. "Cas, what?" 

The angel grinned. "You smoulder." 

He scoffed. “Seriously? He looks like he’s pooping.”

“Dean, you make that face on a regular basis.”

“No, I make attractive, studly faces… Because I’m a stud. And attractive.”

Castiel frowned. “Whadt’s a… stubd?”

“A cool, attractive guy.” Dean puffed up slightly, giving Cas a dashing grin. Castiel gave him a congested smile in return. “Like me.”

"Like Flynn Rider."

The hunter nodded. “ _Exac_ \- No.”

Not wanting to get into an argument, Castiel shrugged again and went back to watching the film. Dean bit his lip… The movie wasn’t actually wasn’t that bad. It was, you know, cute; that horse Maximus was a friggin’ hoot and a half. And at the end of the day, the hunter supposed there were worse things to be compared to than the stud of a Disney prince, Flynn Rider. Who, Dean gathered as the film progressed, wasn’t even a prince.

And honestly, if he was Flynn (Eugene? Who the hell name’s a character Eugene Fitzherbert?!), Castiel was a shoe in for Rapunzel… He was just as clueless when it came to human society and culture, and even more badass. Actually, the more the hunter thought about it, the more the parallels became almost disturbing: Rapunzel was kept in a tower her entire life, she had been brainwashed; Dean didn’t even want to think of what went on at Bible Camp. Rapunzel had rebelled; so had Cas… they really weren’t that different.

At that revelation, the eldest Winchester’s mama bear instincts shot through the roof.

Dean stayed for the rest of the movie under the pretense that he needed to be there if Cas needed anything. Towards the end of the film, however, the hunter had migrated impossibly close to his human-sized babushka doll, fisting the blankets as Rapunzel lay over Eugene’s dead body. Stealing a look at Cas, the eldest Winchester saw his friend completely transfixed on the screen, brows furrowed as he held his breath in anticipation.

Dean wasn’t saying he was worried, because it was Disney… but if Eugene died, he’d be pissed. I mean, it was a kids’ movie for God sakes! Besides, Rapunzel deserved to be happy. _Eugene_ deserved to be happy.

Cas deserved to be happy.

Speaking of the ex-angel; he was, at that particular moment in time, sounding like he was hacking up a lung. Grimacing, the hunter handed him another tissue and reached over to the bedside table, taking a thermos mug filled with mint tea. Castiel took it gratefully.

Obviously, his friend was in need… Who was Dean Winchester to deny him? To _leave_ him?

By the time they finished Monsters Inc., Cas’ protective blanket cocoon had been peeled away, the ex-angel had taken two Advil for his fever, and he was currently nursing a second cup of tea. Though they had started out simply sitting next to each other, Castiel was now leaning his head against Dean’s shoulder, the hunter’s arm round the other man in a gesture that the sandy-haired human was adamant did not communicate any sort of romantic affinity.

By the time they were halfway into Lilo & Stitch, Cas was half draped over Dean, the ex-angel’s head on the hunter’s chest. Sam had walked past the room a couple of times, pausing when he was finally met with the sight of Cas and Dean cuddling. That was what they were doing, there was no mistaking it.

And the opportunity was too good to pass up.

“Comfortable, Dean?” he asked with a shit-eating grin.

Castiel nodded at the same time Dean said: “Screw off, Sammy.” But the hunter’s tone of voice was too soft and comfortable to communicate any sort of real hostility towards the bigger man. The words were affectionate… But not affectionate towards Sam. It was almost like Dean was using his answer to talk to _Cas_. Like some sort of subliminal message was being transmitted through tone and soft cotton blankets.

Sam left them in peace. Maybe this would be the catalyst to finally end their ridiculous tiptoeing around each other.

“ _Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind… Or forgotten._ ”

Absently, Dean squeezed Cas microscopically closer, just enough for the other man to feel it. Castiel felt his heart swell in his chest, and despite a faint uneasiness in his stomach, the ex-angel smiled softly.

Once again, the parallels between Castiel and Experiment 626 were absolutely striking.

Cas had been created a Warrior; so had Stitch. I mean, hell, even the whole ‘mad scientist creator’ was similar… What kind of God thinks _sloths_ are a good idea? Or hornets? Or _humans_ , for that matter?

Cas had Fallen; Stitch had crash-landed in Hawaii.

“ _This is your badness level…_ ”

Cas had changed during his time on Earth; so had Stitch.

“ _You came back.”_

_“Nobody gets left behind.”_

They were both fiercely loyal… Cas had saved their asses on more than one occasion. And, you know, they both had dog-like qualities. Cas was good at looking like a kicked puppy. 

Castiel had found a _family_ , a place where he belonged, despite the fact that he still loved his brothers and sisters in Heaven:

“ _This is my family. I found it, all on my own. Is little, and broken, but still good. Yeah, still good.”_

Because they were a family: him and Sam and Charlie and Kevin; they were a little, broken, fucked up family. And Cas was part of that. Hell, Cas was… Well, he was- He was Cas. And as the credits began rolling, the hunter couldn’t help but look at his friend with a fond smile… his friend who was, at this point, starting to look a very unappetizing shade of green. “Dean,” he groaned. “I don’t feel so good.”

They hobbled to the bathroom just in time for Castiel to projectile vomit into the toilet.

“D-Dean, I’m sor-” And he vomited again. The hunter bit his lip, mothering instincts taking over as he sat on the bathroom floor with Cas like the ex-angel was a child, rubbing his back and running his hands through the Cas’ dark hair. “It’s gonna be okay, Cas, just let it all out.”

He puked again.

“There you go, man.”

“Dean-”

“Don’t sweat it, dude. This kind of shit happens all the time.”

A gag. “It feels like I’m going to die.”

Despite himself, Dean smiled, ruffling the newly-turned-mortal’s hair as he shook his head. “Nah. You just caught a bug.”

Castiel’s eyes widened. “I have a parasite?”

“No. I mean, I don’t think so… You have a bug. A cold.”

Cas frowned, face pale and sweaty as he tried to understand. “W-What does an insect have to do with my illness?”

“It’s just a figure of speech, don’t worry about it.”

Cas leaned over the toilet bowl, emptying the contents of his stomach for the third time before hacking a cough. “I hate being human,” he said breathlessly.

“It sucks,” Dean agreed.

They stayed there for an hour.

Castiel was exhausted. Never had he felt so weak and defeated, he thought helplessly, head leaning against the cool porcelain of the toilet. God, the cold was nice. “’M so… so sorry, Dean,” he slurred. “This is disgusting.”

The hunter shook his head. “Don’t worry about it."

“You’re so kind,” Cas mumbled as Dean’s fingers massaged his scalp. “Thank you for staying.”

He frowned. Of course he stayed… Cas was hurting. “Ohana.” He squeezed Cas’ hip. “Nobody gets left behind.”

Cheesy? Yes.

But the bathroom smelled like puke, so Dean was attributing it to the fumes.

“Ohana,” Castiel repeated, eyes closing in exhaustion. “Family. Yes.”

Dean would not let him sleep in the bathroom. “All right, up you get."

The ex-angel moaned in protest, fingers gripping to the cool porcelain of the toilet tightly. “No. It’ll happen again.”

When nothing had happened ten minutes later, Dean had coaxed his friend into brushing his teeth before helping him into the bedroom. “Gimme a sec, I’m gonna get you some fresh clothes-”

Castiel gripped the hunter’s arm tightly, shaking his head wildly. “Don’t leave me,” he pleaded pathetically. Dean bit his lip, pressing a kiss to the ex-angel’s forehead in what he was sure was a fit of insanity. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

Though Dean could have technically given Cas some of Sam’s clothes, the hunter told himself he did not want to inconvenience his brother… Which was complete BS.

Dean would not have Cas wearing anybody else’s clothes but his. Which, honestly, he tried not to think about too hard. Grabbing a clean shirt and some pajama bottoms, the hunter hurried back to Castiel with a grin. “Got ‘em.”

Cas looked at the shirt and pants in dismay, shaking his head as he crawled onto the bed carefully. “Can’t. ’M too tired.”

“You need to change, man. You’re soaked.”

Castiel knew this. His shirt was wet with sweat and stuck to his skin in places, making him shiver violently. Despite this, however, the ex-angel ignored his friend, cuddling into the pillows of Sam’s bed.

Dean bit his lip. Cas couldn’t stay like that… the last thing the man needed was to catch a chill on top of whatever bug he already had. Grunting in an attempt to seem more masculine, the hunter pulled his friend into a seated position, trying not to think about how his fingers were shaking or how hot the room suddenly seemed to be as he pulled Cas’ shirt over his head, fingers dragging against warm skin. Castiel whimpered, scooting forward to bury his face into Dean’s neck as he sighed.

The hunter tensed, heart pounding as he struggled to breathe evenly despite the fact that it felt like every molecule of oxygen had been sucked from the room. Carefully, Dean reached for the clean shirt, pausing when Cas cuddled into his skin, inhaling deeply. The eldest Winchester bit his lip, unable to stop himself from running his fingers over the smooth skin of Castiel’s back.

What the hell was he doing?

When Cas mewled, lips moving against the flesh of his neck, Dean found he didn’t really care.

What he did care about were the goosebumps covering the ex-angel’s flesh. “C’mon Cas. Work with me, man.”

They wrestled on the t-shirt, and Dean tried not to think about how uncomfortably tight his own pants seemed when he removed those of his best friend. “Lift your ass.” Helping Castiel through the legs, the sandy-haired young man was sure his face was bright red. Thank God Sam was nowhere to be found, and Cas’ eyes were so glassy and unfocused the hunter was certain he was only vaguely aware of what was happening, because Dean was about to die of embarrassment. Not that he was embarrassed to be helping Cas… Dean took care of his own, no matter what. No, this had to do with how much he was _enjoying_ the free access to touch Castiel wherever suited his fancy, and the physical ramifications of that. It made him feel stupid, and weirdly hot, and like he was taking advantage. I mean, aside from the fact that he’d never felt any sort of arousal for a man, the timing for this new development was seriously off. Cas looked like he was out of it, and therefore, now was not the time for the mother of all boners. It was basic etiquette.

Ideally, Dean would prefer not getting boners in front of Cas at all. But he figured that if it had to happen, he'd choose a time when Castiel wasn't  _almost unconscious and coughing up a lung_. Because again, basic etiquette.

Shifting uncomfortably, Dean tried to think of something other than the way Cas moved against him in response, scooting closer to be flush against his chest. Dude was basically sitting in his lap, and the hunter took a moment to mentally curse every deity he knew of.

The list was long.

So long, in fact, that about halfway through, it became a sort of mediation exercise; every other name would be accompanied by a cleansing breath. At his wits end and out of options, the hunter shamelessly tried to recall every stupid yoga thing Sam had ever told him about, refusing to acknowledge how freaking girly and stupid he felt.

“Why’re you mumbling deities?”

Dean froze, though whether from being caught or from the way Cas breathed into his skin, he couldn’t be sure. What he was sure of was that the boner was coming back in full force. Awesome.

Castiel moved again so his face was directly before Dean’s, the ex-angel’s blue eyes in sharp focus in contrast to the rest of his face. The hunter could see his companion struggling to keep up with what was happening, and Dean found he couldn’t stop himself from tilting his head forward. Whether out of curiosity, as a gesture of comfort, or simply because he wanted to, Dean didn’t really know… But Cas was sick, and human, and there, and goddamn if he wasn’t the cutest thing the hunter had ever seen, all cuddly and snot-nosed.

Which really shouldn’t have been attractive, but Dean was past caring. And so was Dean’s boner.

Unfortunately, Castiel decided to put a wrench in this plan and fuck it in the worst way possible.

Cas put a hand to Dean’s chest, heart pounding as he tried to formulate a coherent sentence. Not that he found anything wrong with kissing his hunter… There were just other aspects to consider. Aspects like Dean.

He meant to say: _Dean, no. Direct contact with me will increase your risk in contracting my illness. I don’t want you to get sick._ But what actually came out was more like: “Bean… Risky contracts.” He ended that sentence with a resolute shake of his head, and Dean looked at Castiel like he’d literally sprouted wings.

Which would have been appropriate a couple of weeks ago, but now made absolutely no sense.

Frustrated, the blue-eyed man tried again, frowning as he tried to get his mouth to move as fast as his brain. When Cas found himself thoroughly distracted by Dean’s pretty face, however, all cognitive functions stopped completely. “I… Um… What?” The ex-angel shook his head again, taking a deep breath as he tried to compose himself and control the myriad of emotions currently coursing through his system. Accidentally, he ground against Dean and the hunter released a guttural groan, both parties immediately freezing as they looked at each other in alarm.

Cas wasn’t looking so unfocused anymore. “Bean?” His name came out as a high-pitched squeak, probably because a sneeze followed almost immediately after, showering Dean with a light mist of snot _._ The hunter blinked twice in quick succession. Castiel’s eyes widened. “S-Sorry.”

 _Wonderful._ Dean was hot for his best friend and covered in snot. Awesome. Really.

At least the boner was gone.

“Cas, what did we say about covering your mouth and nose?” That wasn’t a question. The hunter’s voice was eerily calm as he wiped his face, anger bubbling just below the surface as he looked at the other expectantly. Dean wasn’t mad, not really… But _come on_. If he wasn’t so sure Gabriel had kicked it, he would’ve been sure the dick was behind all of this; Disney, the boners, the weird feelings... It had his stink all over it.

Taking a deep breath, the ex-angel ran through different outcomes quickly in his feverish mind, weighing the pros and cons of silence and speech before defaulting to what he was, at that point, most familiar with:

Disney movies.

And okay, the situations didn’t substitute perfectly, but what else was he supposed to do? Even in his current state, the blue-eyed man knew that hitting Dean with a frying pan seemed off (besides, he have to run all the way to the kitchen, and he wasn't up for that). And I mean, he technically could have sung Dean a song, but Castiel was in no mood to be coming up with lyrics. Besides, that option seemed unnecessarily time-consuming.

So Cas kissed him, instead.

Because really, Dean was bound to get sick now, anyway.

Really quick and really chaste, Castiel pecked Dean on his lips, pulling back completely flushed, eyes bright with fever. If you’d have asked Cas at the time, he would have told you he was going for ‘Prince Phillip when he wakes Sleeping Beauty’. “Sorry,” the sick man breathed again, leaning his forehead against Dean’s as he licked his lips.

The hunter’s lips parted in shock. And while Cas was looking at his partner nervously, fidgeting in ways that was making the stupid boner come back (seriously?) and fretting over if the kiss had been incorrect, or not princely enough, Dean was trying to understand what the _fuck_ was going on.

Now, there were a couple of things about Dean Winchester: The first being that, though he was no homophobe, Dean had zero interest in men. At least, that had been the general consensus for the first thirty years of his natural life. The hunter could appreciate beauty in all its forms, sure… But more than that? No friggin’ way. He was straight man. A leg man. Female legs. He also liked boobs. Butts, too. Legs and boobs and butts, on the same person.

Cas was missing the one in the middle.

But hey, Dean was also mildly experimental… Any opportunity for pleasure was a good one, right? Especially considering the way his goddamn jeans seemed to be cutting off his blood circulation. He could try it, maybe. I mean, it was _Cas_. He knew Cas. He trusted Cas.

Cas trusted him.

So what if he had a penchant for blue-eyed angel? Everybody has their kinks.

And if _that_ thought hadn’t earned him a one-way ticket downstairs…

Eventually, Dean just gave up and reasoned that Castiel needed him, dammit, and somehow, that involved more kissing because it just did. Consequently, any insecurities regarding anything ever could just go fuck themselves. And you know what? Maybe he needed Cas, too. Maybe it was mutual needing. Plus Castiel was sick, so you know, Dean wanted to make him feel better.

Leaning forward, the hunter paused for only a moment before kissing Castiel full on the mouth, Dean’s heart almost beating out of his chest in anticipation and nervousness. He teased the dark-haired man’s lips open with the tip of his tongue, hands carding through Cas' hair as the other man gave a soft moan.

This was _nothing_ like Disney movies.

I mean, not that Castiel had entirely based his idea of kissing off of animated flicks, but in his addled state, the thought seemed legitimate.

Requiring oxygen, Cas pulled away, once again burying his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, this time with a large smile. “Nice.”

“Yeah,” Dean agreed, breathless.

They lost track of how long they spent sitting on the bed, exchanging soft kisses and smiles, touching each other delicately and deliberately. And they were _only_ kissing; Dean wasn’t sure Castiel was completely aware of his actions, addled as he was. The hunter had, at some point, tried to communicate that the last thing he wanted was to take advantage of a sick man in need, but Cas had silenced him with a kiss.

And hey, if this is what he wanted—what he needed, who was Dean to deny him?

The hunter called for a break when the fever got particularly bad, and then they’d moved the party to the bathroom and the kitchen before heading back to bed, starting with cold compresses and ice water in between tender touches. Dean prayed he wouldn’t need to stick Castiel in an ice bath, because:

1) That meant they should really just get Cas to a hospital.

2) It was time-consuming, which took precious minutes away from Dean’s more hands-on approach to care.

3) If he had to get Castiel into an ice bath, clothed or not, there was no way he’d be able to just stop at kissing.

Thankfully, Cas’ fever broke before it became something serious, and it was around that time that the ex-angel began to crash, tugging Dean down with him on the bed, baby blues tired but clearing. Cas gave him a congested, sleepy smile as Dean peeled himself away from his charge, rubbing Vicks on the blue-eyed man’s chest as he tried not to get carried away. It was _Vicks_ for fucks sake.

But apparently, Dean’s penis couldn’t tell the difference between medical rub and massage oil.

The hunter ran his palms flat across Cas’ solar plexus, fingers brushing through the sparse hairs on his companion’s chest. Castiel sighed in response to these touches, blinking heavily as his hand searched for any part of Dean he could reach. Threading his fingers through his companion’s, the ex-angel let their hands rest back on the mattress, forcing Dean to straddle him in order to finish the Vicks-ing process. Dean never let go of Cas’ hand, finishing off with running his vaporub-covered index finger over the graceful bridge of Castiel’s nose and across his upper lip. Cas sighed.

Smiling affectionately, the hunter leaned down, capturing Castiel’s top lip between his in what was supposed to be a goodnight kiss before pulling away, wrinkling his nose. “Dude, you taste like Vicks.”

Frowning blearily, the blue-eyed man swept his tongue over his top lip, looking confused when he couldn’t taste anything. Leaning up, Cas ran the tip of his tongue along Dean’s shimmering mouth, immediately crinkling his nose as well. “Ack.”

The hunter rolled his eyes. Yeah, it was bedtime. Clambering off his companion, Dean’s heart swelled when Cas tugged on his arm, looking at him, disappointed. The absence of comforting heat and weight made Castiel feel exposed and uncomfortable. He didn’t like it. “…Stay?

As if he had to ask. Burrowing under the covers, the two men cuddled into each other, Dean pulling Castiel backwards into his chest, nestling his face into the crook of Cas’ neck while pressing soft, gentle kisses into the warm flesh.  Castiel smiled and turned in his arms. "Really'm sorry," he mumbled. "You'll catch it for sure now."

The hunter shrugged like it was no big deal. Because it wasn’t. "S’okay,” he muttered. But Castiel didn't seem to be buying it. Rolling his eyes, Dean kissed the red tip of Cas' nose, unable to stop himself from moving down and pressing his lips to the even deeper red of the other man's mouth. "Promise," Dean breathed, the word chased away with a smile. "'Sides, I don't  _get_ sick."

The next morning, Dean woke with a runny nose. 


End file.
